


Hips Don't Lie

by wintercreek



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-12
Updated: 2008-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You, John Sheppard, are a lunatic!" Rodney yells, but there's no real heat in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hips Don't Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Comment fic for Kashmir1, first posted [here](http://kashmir1.livejournal.com/936321.html?thread=14483329#t14483329). My original notes: _In what is potentially an embarrassing moment, I (who am not even on your flist) saw your post and was promptly overtaken by this scene. Which I impulsively wrote, right here in the middle of a crowded coffee shop. Which is, um, the most explicit thing I have ever written. So, enjoy?_

"You, John Sheppard, are a lunatic!" Rodney yells, but there's no real heat in it. John's still slinking toward him, not discouraged in the least by the imprecations Rodney's heaping on his head, because a) it's _Rodney_ and b) Rodney's grinning helplessly as he lists the probable (or improbable) parentage that must have produced John.

"C'mon, Rodney," John half-drawls, "you know you want to."

"I know no such thing!" Rodney's backed in to a corner now and getting progressively more shrill as John moves in. There's nowhere for him to go.

Rodney draws a breath for one more attempt to ward off what's coming, but John silences him with a kiss. What starts as a soft brush of lips quickly becomes demanding, John's tongue swiping Rodney's lipsteethtongue until Rodney moans. When Rodney comes back to himself he finds that John has an arm around his waist and has pulled him out of the corner of the kitchen.

Ancient kitchens apparently being just like Earth kitchens everywhere, this one has slick linoleum-like flooring and counters that are slightly too far apart. Rodney'd been hoping when he took refuge here that even with the horrendous counter placement the area would be too narrow for John's purposes - no dice.

There is, in fact, just enough room for John to drag Rodney in to some kind of fast dance, like a cha-cha or something equally ludicrous, sock-clad feet sliding over the flooring. "We must never speak of this," Rodney warns.

"Sure, Rodney." John's face is crinkled, his eyes sparkling. "You're doin' pretty good, there. Sure you can't dance?"

"Genius here! And anyway, there's a difference between 'can't' and 'won't' - 'can' being attributable to a really regrettable decision I made as an undergrad to fill my phys ed credits with dance classes."

John sputters.

"I thought it would help me meet girls! Or boys! Or whomever!" Rodney's flushing so hard he's almost distracted from the important detail niggling at the corner of his brain. "_Hey!_" he cries, indignant, "is this _Shakira?!_"

"My hips don't lie, McKay." John shimmies and Rodney feels his dick take notice, BDUs getting more uncomfortable than he'd previously imagined they could.

"Fine," he sniffs. "But I'm picking the next dance." And with that Rodney takes advantage of his superior weight to swing John around, pinning him against the edge of the sink.

"Sure thing, Rodney," John breathes. Rodney's doing a little shimmying of his own, rubbing his erection against the growing bulge of John's. He regrets every second it takes to back off, to open his belt and work his pants down, but he's hissing with relief as his dick springs free. John's taken advantage of the pause to do the same and looks equally relieved.

Rodney drinks him in for a moment. "God, _John._" Then he's on John again, tilting his head to kiss John deeply, sliding one hand down to wrap around John's dick and feeling John clutch one-handed at Rodney's ass. John's other hand is bracing them against the counter.

Their kiss is getting dirtier, _needier,_ until Rodney pulls almost roughly at John's cock once, twice, three times and John comes all over Rodney's hand and both their shirts. It's so hot Rodney's about to go off himself, and once John pushes him back the short distance he needs to drop to his knees Rodney's not sure how he's going to avoid embarrassing himself.

John's mouth is hot and slick, and he's scraping his teeth lightly along Rodney's dick, and it's not long enough before Rodney's panting, "John, John, John," as he comes and comes and comes. John swallows before he pulls off, which as always makes Rodney moan and twitch limply.

"So. Next time I ask you to dance, you'll say yes?" John's smirking the smirk of the truly smug.

Standing there in the kitchen, pants around both their ankles and splotches of cum on both their shirts, Shakira still singing in the background, Rodney can't say anything but "Yes."


End file.
